From Vague, Tinted Conversations
by Lightning And Blossoms
Summary: He doesn't fidget; I wonder if he's ever gone to therapy before, by how calm his position seems. It's only been two minutes, but I know he's reluctant. He doesn't seem like the person to just blurt things out- calculated: that's why he's calm. I mean; that's why he looks calm.
1. Chapter 1

_**Important Note:** Basically around July 2011 or so, I made myself a personal goal. The goal was that I'll make up and write 50 Alex Rider Fan Fictions. I have seven other Alex Rider Fan Fictions, and six of them are a part of this personal goal (A Different Day In The SAS, The Occupation Jeopardy, 5.A.M and Caught In A Chase 25 To Life, Social Interactions and From His Man-Made-Faked Blue Eyes). This is actually my SEVENTH fanfiction in this personal 50-Alex-Rider-Fanfics (which means there are now eight alex rider fics all together) I hope you enjoy it! I guess you could let me know in a review, how else would I receive feedback? :D_

**_From Vague, Tinted Conversations_**

**_Chapter One:_**

He doesn't fidget; I wonder if he's ever gone to therapy before, by how calm his position seems. It's only been two minutes, but I know he's reluctant. He doesn't seem like the person to just blurt things out- calculated: that's why he's calm. I mean; that's why he _looks_ calm.

Although he doesn't seem like the type to be shy, either- or maybe, he never used to be shy... however, now I'm just going off his appearance. And that's just stereotypical of me, despite how most times I do seem to be right. So, maybe, I think; _does he know what to say?_ By his behaviour, I can tell that he's paranoid. I know that for sure, so perhaps what he's really thinking, is how much of a double-agent-bitch I could be in some form of a twisted imagination. It makes my job harder, especially since I am genuinely curious about him.

I guess- I _know_- it doesn't help that I've had an absolute insane week. Honestly, I've filed for my own therapy session in two weeks. So for some reason, I've gotten this new, foreign _perspective_of _myself_... I find that I actually want to care... In fact, I do care about this 15-year-old stranger in front of me. I obviously do care about people; which is why I chose this job, but after so many disturbing, different stories, I started to fall into a trap of my own where I was almost numb to accepting them. Now, I realise, you can connect with everybody much easier when you re more open and... 'eccentric'... Or, well, the positive kind of eccentric.

Maternal Instinct, perhaps- something I'm sure he wouldn't believe was even common within any member related to M.I.6...

He clears his throat, trying to look content as his smooth brown eyes slowly gaze around the room behind me. "How old are you?" He looks me dead in the eye and I almost believe he is comfortable with me, as he adds, "not to sound rude, sorry. Age groups tend to act differently around other age groups... And you look brighter than the usual M.I.6 employees..."

So. He does know I know him... Know he has something related to M.I.6... I mean, obviously- since he's come to _me_. Softly, I smile, "Ah, Mr. Alex Rider... Why don't you guess, then?"

That's when the blond quickly glanced across a particular area in the room. For an actual, odd second, I thought he saw something (perhaps, paranoia's effects?) and I was tempted to turn around. But that's when I realised that he was analysing me through the arrangement of the room. It was a surprise- it was subtle- if I wasn't trained by M.I.6, I probably thought I was going crazy.

"26... no, 25."

I blinked slowly, looking down at my pad in surprise. I missed the cheeky grin that appeared on the boy's face, for that one second.

My writing pads are quickly running out. On my plastic, light green clipboard is about 5 pads left... It's such bad timing. I know I'd need to invest more for Alex Rider. Just a month prior I had been briefed on this meeting- apparently, it was... What was the word they used? '_Critical_.' I noted that he had some involvement with M.I.6, because they seemed to be controlling 'what was right' for the teenager. I considered that maybe they wanted to use him... I knew about M.I.6's belief of '_doing it for the greater good_'.

But they wouldn't tell me anything about the boy, anything of much use... So I worried; but then again, wouldn't that be _illegal_? So then I worried about maybe M.I.6 was testing little ol' _me_; testing my work and how I help people. It could be possible. I was never really watched by them... Or, from what I know of. For all I know, they could have put bugs in my room. I wouldn't put it passed them, despite these sessions needing to be confidential. So, instead, I believe the room isn't bugged, regardless.

What I was told about Alex, was his age- what grade he was in (_I mean, really? Don't they think I could figure that out if I had his age? Especially since they told me his grades had been perfect..._) There was a mention of his uncle (_Ian?_) and how he had passed away, and that Alex got depression.

When I finished high school, I actually went to college to do counselling for 3 years. I was a student counsellor until I was 21 years old, for a high school. I was filing in to be a local therapist after an event that occurred with my friend. I had eventually convinced my friend to go to a local therapist, and after a few sessions, I realised the therapist was an idiot and was not helping... _and_ was a little stuck up.

At that point, I was a little more ill-tempered and I went to have a 'talk' with the therapist. Apparently, I had shocked the man... And he was fired, or something. Only, it was only a bit later after that day, when I was told that man was an M.I.6 operative and that therapist job was just a cover-up for some mission... So he wasn't actually 'fired', which made me feel a little better after feeling slightly guilty.

I got a promotion of some sorts- I got his job. I helped my friend. It didn't take long before I was approached- the male must've spoken about me at M.I.6 or something, I've no idea. It was during that time when I realised I did have patience for espionage... Patience I never knew I actually had in me to that extent. So, since that age (21), I stayed in this job- in my own office, being a therapist mainly for M.I.6 operatives.

Looking up at the blond boy, I cannot imagine him attempting suicide. But, that is why he is here. And I'm more than willing to help. And I know it's going to be a long journey with him- one I'm looking forward to- which is why it is a pity I've just about run out of writing pads to write on.

Despite him knowing he is right, through my first reaction, I say, "Yes, well... I'm 24. You've guessed pretty close! I've got three years worth of M.I.6 secrets and yet I'm not sure how the hell you figured that out." _I do._

He replies with, "Everything." And I know the single word is his whole truth on that.

Alex isn't going to open up to me- I know. So, I ponder on how I could get him to trust me. This is the first time I'm talking to anybody below 20 years old... in this room, of course. _Of course_, that is because nobody under _that_ age should know about M.I.6's existence. So how did he find out? His uncle?

"My grandma," I started, not really sure where I was going with my statement (_why do I feel like such a mess this morning? Of all mornings?!_)... Nonetheless, I noticed I grabbed Alex's attention. I knew I needed to steer clear of the clichés of 'friends', I had some instinct not to talk about my uncle or aunty... "She used to love researching people. She used to love hearing about people's dreams and trying to figure them out. In high school, the first elective she chose was history. However, she gave up trying to comprehend people after two years at uni... Now she's very egotistical... She still cares, though."

I stopped talking to buy myself time. I took in how Alex was handling this. I wandered about his grandma- did he know her? So far, it doesn't seem like a 'touchy' subject. Besides the neutral expression on his face, he kept eye contact. He looked interested, despite the slight surprise of the change of subject. I stuck my pen on my clip board and continued talking.

"I told her a dream I had, about two months ago. I vaguely remember being trapped under my blankets. Something was happening to her behind the door. After a struggle, I got out of the bed, and I remember just shaking... When I was opened the door, there was nobody _physically_ there, but I felt something... Almost near me. And I could hear her crying and I started crying because I didn't know where to go."

Alex's expression of surprise and intrigue wiped off his face. I couldn't quite tell what was going on in his mind, but I got worried. Perhaps I sparked a memory, he moved his legs and his eyes twitched away from mine just for a second. Whatever I've done, I had an instinct _not_ to stop- he couldn't look away from me; he wanted to know the end of the dream, despite it being that- a_dream_- a stupid lack of reality to memories... _Or_ perhaps he still thinks I'm a crazy bitch back-stabber and keeps his eyes trained on me_ just in case_...

I know I have to speak a bit slowly when re-living my dream or explaining it or whatever; because Alex could react harshly. _Just in case._

"I ran into my kitchen to find a knife. A big one; which I couldn't find. I was frustrated because I knew there was one in the drawer... But I guess my persona decided to ignore that fact," I rolled my eyes. "I was scared when the noises stopped. Without hesitation when a shadow jumped out at me I grabbed some random knife- that magically appeared on top of the bench- and ran out of the house. When I reached the grass on my lawn, I dropped to my knees and dropped the... dropped the knife. There was a baby fish on the grass, or on my hands... Whatever. I just knew I had to clean it- ASAP.

"So, I felt like somebody was behind me. I looked- but you know what was there? Fire. _Everywhere_. The whole neighbourhood was on fire... That's basically all I can remember. It's stupid and it has some many... random events, but either way, when I woke up; I wouldn't let myself fall asleep again that night. And of everything, the first thing I thought of, was my grandma. Which was silly as I knew it was just a dream."

Being a trained therapist for M.I.6 I learnt from the spies... _A little, at least_. I've realised having a strict an stubborn therapist doesn't work- not even for people outside of this world of M.I.6. When I was a counsellor at the high school, I realised this as well. I need to be myself- somebody they can look at for- not just a therapist, but kind of a friend. Somebody dependable. Somehow, now, I've managed to let the recounting of a simple dream, get to me. And Alex hasn't even seemed to have noticed, though, secretly I think he has.

His eyes barely blink and his chest rises and falls more hastily than I noticed earlier.

_A/N: Wow, that took a lot to write... I have the next chapter ready. I could upload it... But I'd appreciate it if I got feedback from this chapter! I know it was mainly just off this random lady, but the next chapter will have more conversation between Alex and her. You get to see more into Alex. And it's also the last chapter. If I get even just one or two reviews to let me know what they think... I'll upload the next chapter quicker!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Important Note:** Basically around July 2011 or so, I made myself a personal goal. The goal was that I'll make up and write 50 Alex Rider Fan Fictions. I have seven other Alex Rider Fan Fictions, and six of them are a part of this personal goal (A Different Day In The SAS, The Occupation Jeopardy, 5.A.M and Caught In A Chase 25 To Life, Social Interactions and From His Man-Made-Faked Blue Eyes). This is actually my SEVENTH fanfiction in this personal 50-Alex-Rider-Fanfics (which means there are now eight alex rider fics all together) I hope you enjoy it! I guess you could let me know in a review, how else would I receive feedback? :D_

**_From Vague, Tinted Conversations_**

**_Chapter Two:_**

_I need to be myself- somebody they can look at for- not just a therapist, but kind of a friend. Somebody dependable. Somehow, now, I've managed to let the recounting of a simple dream, get to me. And Alex hasn't even seemed to have noticed, though, secretly I think he has._

_His eyes barely blink and his chest rises and falls more hastily than I noticed earlier._

In an attempt to calm Alex Rider down or distract him, I say, "So, I called my grandma- and apparently she was napping or something because she wasn't afraid to tell me, 'I think you have some subconscious notion of not letting me sleep in peace'." I rolled my eyes and smiled amused at the memory of her voice. "And ever since, I need to ring my nan just to check that she's 'sleeping peacefully'."

There was a moment's pause where I let myself believe I've cracked some surface with Alex. I think he's ready- _or_ maybe he just would like to shut me up. Despite wanting to be dependable like a friend to my patients, I don't like to be too _personal_ with them. However, I don't regret anything right now, when all of a sudden- Alex Rider cracks a smile. Then he looks down at his lap and laughs. I don't ask him what's funny: this time I'll give him a chance to explain himself.

And not too soon after, he says, "just about three nights ago I had a dream that a fish shit on me. That's it... That was basically the _whole dream_. And it was the first dream I've had in months."

He looks back into my eyes.

I hesitate but then write down on my pad what he said. It's the first written down thing for him but he doesn't seem surprised by my action; he's watching me. I ask him, seriously, but smiling, "so you haven't had a dream for months... How come?"

Alex clears his throat and I see how upset he gets, despite trying to keep up a weak smile. I can tell he knows that I'm leading directions towards him, like a real therapy session now, and I actually feel a bitter taste in my mouth from that.

"I dunno; I just fall unconscious when I can."

It was said nonchalantly, but it's giving me even more insight. _Does he realise that?_ "I think you do know," I reply quickly.

We fall into silence and Alex doesn't reject my statement. He's given up- the same notion he walked into my room with. The bitter taste in my mouth grows, so I try to backpaddle, try to get back into our back-and-forth conversation we had going.

"I'm sorry," I add as I continue writing at my pad. When I look up, he looks slightly disgusted at my apology. "I... When I write things down, it's not like I'm going to actually dissect you. It'll help me remember things we said, easier... and that way, I can offer you more support. It's my... Job."

Alex's jaw clenched at the end of that sentence. I didn't know it then, but he truly believed for a wild second that I was going to dissect him- because of memories from Point Blanc. Then it faded from his focus- rather forcefully. He still doesn't say anything. Alex understands- but he's mad. He's mad of 'jobs' and expectations. Doesn't want to be _analysed_. If I looked up from my again, that pad, I would've notice all this brief reactions; from the wild look he gained, and then I'd understand- and then I'd understand he'd seen and heard things he could never forget and always re-live; and that this was a boy- a _boy_- who _had_ attempted suicide.

However, when I did look up, he was just staring at me.

I clear my throat, this time. "I've never heard of anybody not dreaming for such a long time."

He doesn't say anything. And my heart sinks. _I've lost him._

But, I won't give up. "I think, scientists have said that it's impossible for somebody not to dream for too long. Or at all, but I'm not sure. Why do you think you just 'fall unconscious'?"

With another pause, I believe that he isn't going to answer. I'm furious- at myself, when suddenly he opens his mouth the same time I do. I stop, waiting for him to speak first- when he refuses that. I try a different tactic because I cannot give up- I wouldn't be allowed anyway... I wander whose given up on this boy in the past few months.

And I take a deep breath. "Alex, I'm aware you probably don't like me. You don't know me. Fair enough. You hate who I work for. Fine; fair enough." I got his attention, even though he looks a little defiant. "I don't really like who I work for either. They seem to have this knowledge on things I can't even wrap my mind around. But they seem ignorant, to... Details they believe matter to something. Sometimes I fall in that position. Sometimes I want to scream at their stupid irrationalism- especially after the things I've heard within these four walls...

"And I see what every individual have done to help this world continue. I figure... Blunt and Jones are somewhere behind that- most times... 'for the greater good'. I know I would be _hopeless_ in _their_ position! And so then, I refuse to be a monotone of a therapist. I care about everybody... those who willingly decides to confide in me and I respect those who are more reserved. Patiently waiting...

"So, I'll do my best to help you, even if that means you need to come back another time. Or if you vent at me. Or if you... Whatever, I'm here. To listen and support you. I can do that, if you let me. But I am also willing to wait until you are ready to deem me trustworthy or not."

I take a second deep breath and then it's my job to wait.

I place my pad on the floor, but hang on to the pen. I think I've lost Alex Rider's trust by that speech... or lost his attention. He crosses his arms, and then his legs, allowing himself to be deep in thought. I know he's evaluating my speech because he doesn't look away from my eyes- an intimidation tactic.

* * *

_Everything she said sounded so right- like I'm stupid for not trusting her. Of course, that could've been rehearsed; she knows about M.I6, she could just be another operative for some form of revenge or to mess with my head, _Alex thought. He was aware that he wasn't thinking clearly, and he was paranoid. Could that mess with the right and wrong in his mind?_ Or, it could've sounded rehearsed because she's said this before to other operatives who sat in this seat in the past... She is a therapist. If that is the truth. But-_

"I don't know anything about you-"

"No," Alex hushed. He looked shocked that he said that.

"Pardon?"

Alex blinks, furious, "you do know. There's no way-"

"Ian Rider was your uncle. He died and somehow he was your involvement with M.I.6. Your involvement is what I don't know about. But you've missed some school recently, and something has happened and you've attempted to take your life. That's all I know about you. And yet, I'm not afraid of you."

Alex scoffed, trying to avoid everything else I said. Trying to avoid the memories that popped up, by imagining his uncle jerking in his car; the sounds of the bullets shattering the windows. Trying to avoid the impossible he's been through. Trying to avoid when he attempted... "_I don't care if your afraid or not_."

_I don't know if I'm afraid of you, or worried that people judging me will be scared of who I am... If I trust in you, what's the worse that can happen? _Alex thought to himself._ How many more times will I trust before I finally learn my lesson? Why do I _care_? I don't care. But I do. What's it matter? If I trust her the worst that can happen is my life. Do I risk that? I have risked that before- so many times, why this time am I at a stand still?_

The pause lasted a while. Bad people do lie- that's why Alex doesn't trust me yet, I know that.

_People lie_, Alex continued. He was upset at how calm and patient I seemed, not that I knew that. He felt like just ripping his hair out and giving up. _Bad people lie. Good people lie. I lie. I lie. I lie. I lie. I LIE! Would I ever believe anybody? Will I start believing the wrong people and distrust the _right_ people?_

I smile at him, very softly, so he knows I don't judge him; I'm not feeling anything negative towards him. I say softly, "Did you want me to file in for another appointment? Or did you just want to ring and let me know when you're ready? Unless you're willing to talk now, of course."

Alex continued to blink at me, and despite feeling I was in a horror film where somebody was going to abruptly attack me, I smile again. I could imagine a civil war fighting emotions behind his brown eyes.

When I stood up suddenly, he looked alert. I was unaware that he carried a gun (a small one, that he hoped never to _actually_ use). I walked around my desk and grabbed my laptop. From behind my mahogany desk, sitting on a cold seat, I logged onto a website and waited for the server to work.

"I am not a fan of romance books... or movie-wise. But my friend told me about this book... and it has some action in it; I'd like to check it out." I looked above the screen of the laptop and suppressed a smile when the 15-year-old gave me a clear and complete dumbfounded look.

"Why- Why- Wh... What?" The blond's eyebrows furrowed.

I shrugged, "It's about this girl who 'volunteers'-"

"The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins?" Alex suggest, leaning back on his chair, for the first time. That action is a symbol is acceptance... But, why? _Why now? _I wander.

I nod, "You've heard of it?" He nods. _Obviously, _I belittle myself. "Do you like it?" He hesitates. "Too confronting?" To that question, I don't get a response- yet because of that, I get my answer as the response of quietness.

"So, what _do_ you like, Alex?" Did he realise, yet, that I'm trying to find him ways to help distract him? Books are a great way of escape- and yet at the same time they can help you confront some emotions of yourself. They might also help him sleep, for many reasons.

It seems like a good place to start.

After another pause, Alex lets out a heave of carbon dioxide (I took that as a release of energy and built up tension instead of any negative emotion) and sits up on the chair, his legs still crossed, still leaning back on the chair and gave me a very, very soft smile; another sign of acceptance, but also a vague sign of readiness. And then opened his mouth to answer to my question.

_A/N: *cringes and throws hands up* Ugh, I know, I know; this is a horrible, terrible chapter! I'm so sorry. I just re-read it and it seems so... 'messy.' I wrote this chapter more as a vent for myself, it allowed me to be able to escape and let go of some emotions I was feeling at that moment... But, still, it sucks that... this sucks. I'm sorry. But I had such an amazing response for the last chapter- three reviews in just a few hours, you guys are awe-inspiring! Thank you so much. This was the final chapter._

_This seems like a bit of an intense chapter just for the fact that it touches on questions everybody usually asks about without much of a clear answer. It touches on subjects that... Can be a bit sensitive. I'm sorry about that. If you ever feel this way, if you ever need to talk, just remember that you are not alone. Somebody cares about you, I promise, and if you don't believe me- you'll have to look for them. And see, I'm somebody else who cares. That's why I'm giving you this-_

_On facebook, look for the page _Stopping Teen Depression ツღ _If you need to talk to somebody, just message this page. It's private and has a NO tolerance for judgement :') So don't worry too much about that xoxo_


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